Today was a grace. I woke up at 7 AM. I felt awful. It's rained for seven days. We had a tornado warning at 8 AM last Monday morning. The pouring rain has stayed on since then. We got more rain in 72 hours than we had the entire last month.
I really didn't want to go to Mass today. It hurt to go to Mass without Leo. Last Sunday was so beautiful. I had the sudden urge to attend my first Latin Mass with the Augustinian Monks in Charles Town, WV. The Mass was so peaceful and beautiful. The image of those monks praying intently with their strange pointed hats was so comforting this week as I dealt with Baby Leo's sudden disappearance from our regular family life.
This week I faced going back to my regular parish. It's hard to do Mass after death. All the familiar words seem so bloody and real and horrible. I kept thinking about Mary going to her first Mass after Jesus' death. Pain and comfort co-existing in the same place.
Today's reading was about the lepers. Whoa Nelly! This week, as a miscarrying Mom, I feel like a leper. My pain is hidden, and weird, and unidentifiable to many people. Right now, I make a lot of people uncomfortable.
As a leper in Mass today, I turned around to say "Thank you to God." Thank you for Leo. Thank you for his life. For the grace to accept his death. Thank you, for the hope that I can survive this coming brutal week where the plan is basically to sit around the house waiting to miscarry while my husband goes to work 70 miles away from me.
It's hard. Yet it's a beautiful hard.
After Mass, I really felt like an emotional mess. I wanted to take a nap. I was snippy with all my kids, including the birthday boy. I somehow got myself into our minivan. We drove to Chuck E Cheese. We had a 9 year old birthday party. It turned into a great day. Usually I'm totally irritated and overstimulated with all the noise and video games at Chuck E Cheese. I don't think we've visited there for the past 5 years. Today felt different. I joked that Abigail Clare was a cheap date. She munched on one slice of pizza and then sat happily in all the rides without putting in a token. My 3 year old lived on the big white horse for the 1 token jockey game. My husband and I competed against each other in skeet ball. My son amazed me with how many white tickets he won--125.
After it was finished, my husband and I couldn't believe we celebrated a birthday so well when we were that emotionally and physically exhausted. Grace is real. Prayer is real. I thank all of you dear readers for praying for me and my family during this difficult time.
